Doesn't Shake Well
by Sheamaru
Summary: Miles Edgeworth just happened to be working a little late the night an earthquake decides to strike. Thankfully he isn't hurt beyond the normal mental scar. . . Possible Phoenix x Edgeworth implications but mostly just them as rivals and friends
1. Part 1

I was working late, later than most of the prosecutors that the city carried within its limits. The gleam of street-lamps leaked through my window and it was only noticeable because of the dim lighting I kept my office in. Two lamps; one in the corner and another on my desk. For some reason it felt easier to focus when my entire room wasn't lit up in an ultra-violet explosion. It tended to give me migraines when I was staring at text for long spans of time. Of course, I had the overhead lights in case of emergency but most of the time it was left to the sunlight coming through the windows or the personal lamps I had bought especially for my office. A few hours ago I turned the one on my desk on as my eyes strained unnecessarily to focus on the file's words. Later in the evening, as the sky outside grew darker, the one in the corner was flicked to life.

Now I simply sat there, hunched over a particular piece of evidence that had been haunting me for the past few weeks. No matter the case, no matter the crime there was always _a file _that made me pull some form of all-nighter. I couldn't remember the last time I had been stuck with a clean cut case; not since I gave up manipulating evidence to my benefit. The trip I had taken a year ago cured me of such dishonest thoughts, cured me of the illness that years with von Karma had pumped me full of. Of course, there wasn't a chance in God's green earth it would completely disappear from my life but...I had gotten better since my little break.

However, 'better' included all-nighters when I refused help and locked myself in my office with only towering shelves stuffed with books and a computer were my company. Even Pesu, my dog, had gotten used to me not coming home one night a week because I would fall asleep (or not fall asleep and simply lose track of time) at my desk. There was a reason I had bought a comfortable couch for my office and it _wasn't _for my witnesses.

Glancing up for a split moment I caught sight of the time; 12:42. Late, as expected. A few people had stopped by to check on me, offer help, but of course I turned them down. After all, they would be nothing more than distractions from my work anyway. I had long ago discovered that people 'helping' with cases simply meant hanging around in my office talking jibberish and spouting useless or improbable ideas. More often than not they would get annoyed at my lack of response and fall into silence or reply that they had to get home to someone and acted as though I should have been upset that they were leaving. But in truth - what should I have cared? They were the ones to offer anyway.

There was one exception though, for one man who proved on multiple occasions to be a very large asset to my cases. It was he that had caused such reform in me and now that he had experienced his own taste of the 'truth' he was very helpful with pulling my cases together. Sometimes we found things that worked against me and sometimes we found things that assisted my statement but in the end we always found what mattered. And that, quite simply, was the _truth. _

Phoenix Wright had been my rival for some time now and still was, but on cases where we weren't pitted against each other in a battle to prove and disprove evidence and testimonies we offered each other's assistance. Simply because it was Wright _didn't _mean that I always accepted the offer and had refused on numerous occasions. But at times...when something particular was bothering me...he could find things that I over-looked because of my own tedious hours pouring over evidence. It was then that I silently appreciated the help and we discussed how to use what we'd found in action the next day. Trials following the nights that Wright had assisted me tended to leave him in the courtroom and seemingly always in a place I could spot his black hair and blue suit. Whether he was there to support me in a silent way or there simply to study my revised techniques was never important.

My stomach tightened with a convulsing, squishing sort of sound and a dull ache spread through my abdomen. Frowning at the paper and dropping it to the stack already on my desk, my hand absent-mindedly moved to my stomach. That was another advantage to having people assisting me; they reminded me that I, despite being renowned Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, was _human _and needed food to sustain life. A fact I frequently forgot, or chose to ignore, when working the late hours on my own.

Staring at the file again I was aware of the option to simply push the hunger to the back of my mind and continue to work. In fact, that seemed like a very ideal answer at the moment, but as that same throb moved through my insides I decided against it. After all, knowing my work habits (only by way of the undesired reviews from people around me) I had pushed it off a few hours previously and this wasn't a 'warning' grumble this was an 'eat now or face my wrath of deterioration pain' grumble.

Standing up, I migrated around the large desk that over-took a decent part of my office while rubbing my eyes. Pulling open the door and stepping into the obnoxiously bright lights of the hallway cleared my head some and the sheer pain of the light pouring into my system temporarily deafened and numbed me to my stomach's groaning. I wasn't fortunate enough to have it stay away for long though and even if I had, going back into the office would have been pointless. I was already out here, may as well do something about the pain.

Having food delivered seemed stupid by this point; I would have to wait downstairs for it to arrive because no receptionist was in to have it sent up. The break room down the hall had several vending machines and, while the food wasn't the healthiest, it would suffice until I could get home (very likely around five in the morning) and eat something more suitable. As I neared the closed door of the break room, drawing my wallet to check the funds I had that the machine would actually accept, I felt a sudden quiver under my feet. Unaccompanied by the sound of something large in the building or one of the janitorial machines, my wallet slipped from my hands and I was very, very vaguely aware of some spare change clattering to the ground.

An earthquake. . .

------------------------------

There was no feeling like being free from a case load; especially after having nothing _but _for the past several weeks. Or maybe it was just days - but the point was that it had felt like weeks. I was so excited to have a free weekend that I instantly invited Maya out to our usual burger joint for a celebratory meal. It was refreshing to flick off the lights and glance at my clock to see it was only around nine-forty rather than eleven or later. That was just one of the problems with being a dedicated lawyer - the late nights.

I had a car but the place was intentionally not-so-far from the office so Maya and I started our walk. She was going on about the newest samurai show that she was trying to get Pearls into and I was looking at her in an attempt to listen. Most of the time, when she got like this, it was easier just to watch her and take her cues of when to nod or say something. After a few blocks I was pretty safe to look around without her claiming that I wasn't listening anymore. In a little while she'd probably start commenting on whatever it was she thought I was looking at and we'd start another conversation - one I was actually semi-interested in.

We rounded the corner and my eyes immediately flew to the Prosecutor's Building. It was dark, as would be expected, except for one light still being on towards the upper part of the complex. My eyes fixed in on it like it was some kind of target and I knew, without even thinking about it, whose office that was. I recalled the information that Edgeworth was working on a case to the front of my mind. Gumshoe had mentioned it in the office earlier:

_"Looks like Mr. Edgeworth's got a big case on his hands, pal," he'd said, looking around my office in a way that made me wonder if he suspected me of something. His eyes frequently went to Maya, who had been the convicted party of several crimes in the past, as though he was waiting for her to suddenly lose her mind and attack him. Of course, the good detective was also trying to act like that thought hadn't crossed his mind at all._

He wasn't really succeeding at it.

"Yeah, I heard about that," I replied, shuffling through some files on my desk that always seemed to be there. Actually, I didn't even know what was in those manila folders. I think Maya may have put them there so, when things like this happened, it could look like I was actually doing something.

"Yep!" Gumshoe said with such sudden fervor that it made me jump a little. But I quickly moved to disguise that as though I were standing anyway as he continued, "Looks like he'll be pulling another one of those all-nighters of his. A few people offered him some help but he turned them down flat, pal. Flat."

"Well, that's Edgeworth," I said tentatively - was he trying to tell me something? The idea seemed completely out there considering Gumshoe's normal attitude of just saying what was on his mind (sometimes at the expensive of his own hide).

As though to confirm my suspicions he sighed, raising a hand up to the back of his head in a nervous gesture, "Yeah, pal. I guess so. Never resting 'till he gets what needs to be done, done! Mr. Edgeworth sure is a dedicated guy, pal, always collected. You could take a page out of his book next time..." 

_'What!? Only a year ago Edgeworth was dedicated to…' I sighed mentally. It was stupid to bring up such a petty point against the prosecutor, even after his reformed ways, "I thought you weren't supposed to talk to me about cases, Detective." I pointed out in small hopes he might realize the truth in that and go away. It wasn't that I didn't like Gumshoe, actually he was a fairly decent guy, I just wanted to get out of my office. _

_"That's only if you're the attorney for the case, pal," he explained. I made a bit of a face when my back was turned to him. Go figure that the world really _was _out to make my job harder!_

After that point it got pretty silly and Gumshoe left imprinting some thoughts in my head. Having worked with Edgeworth on late night cases before, I knew exactly what he was like. I wasn't really sure if the thought of that should have comforted me or made me kind of nervous for myself but I didn't have much time to think about it as we arrived at the burger joint.

Maya and I spent a longer time than I expected chatting about the past few cases that had come to the Wright & Co. Law Offices. Or rather, fallen into my 'unprepared' lap. Most of it was laughing and some of it was in a sad seriousness, but the fact it was nice to be able to do it at all was burned into my brain at the moment. So burned, in fact, it was impossible for me to get too upset right now. The burger tasted particularly great just for the fact I didn't have a hopeless scenario staring me in the face for the next day.

We wrapped up the meal (with me paying, of course) and I parted ways with Maya outside. Waving good-night and promising to be safe, I waited until she was out of my sight before moving down along the rows of restaurants leading back to my office. Most of them were closed but some places, mostly the ones that took care of deliveries, were still open. Their neon signs burned into my brain a long time ago and eventually I had migrated far enough that I found the one we usually ordered from. Or rather - Edgeworth usually ordered from.

Checking my watch and estimating around the time the clock-work Prosecutor usually ate, I was pretty sure that he would have forgotten about his stomach yet again. I stopped inside and picked up Edgeworth's usual (maybe I really did work late with him too often) before turning to head back towards the building. I thought about turning back to get my car but that would just make the trip longer and the Prosecutor's Office wasn't that far away. I'd built up quite a tolerance for running around these days anyway.

I already knew the bright halls of the building by heart despite the architect's best efforts to make the building confusing. As I was stepping out of the elevator and onto the floor that held Edgeworth's office I felt the ground shake a little. It wasn't much, so I didn't think anything of it. Boy was that stupid. Suddenly that 'little' shake had become a considerably larger one, like the building had a chest cold and was trying to cough up something stuck in its throat (maybe it could sense a defense attorney in its midst?).

Ducking to the ground near the wall and covering my head, I waited for the shaking to cease before even thinking of getting back up. I heard a few crashes around the floor but no where near me and, thankfully, the stretch of hallway I was in was pretty bare save for some chairs that were knocked out of their usually perfect alignment. I pushed myself up slowly, shaking a little, and looking around for any signs that something was suddenly going to crack or I was going to hear the scream of some other poor person. Sure, the building hadn't fallen where _I _was, but that didn't mean that it hadn't fallen in other places.

My eyes found their way back to where I had been kneeling for cover and landed on the bag of food. Somehow I had managed to set it down before damaging it to badly or crushing any of the contents. For a moment my mind was completely empty of thoughts except for 'close one' as I picked up the bag of Edgeworth's food. Then it hit me like a semi-truck; _Edgeworth's food_. I had set it down because of the earthquake. _I had set Edgeworth's food down because of an earthquake! _

Immediately I ran down the hall towards the Prosecutor's office and ended up backtracking as I passed the break room. The door was open but it was completely dark inside save for the very faint glow emerging from under where a vending machine had fallen. Dread immediately flooded my mind. Had Edgeworth been under that vending machine? Was he dead now? Did one of the few things I had found to actually scare him manage to kill him? Could the fearsome Miles Edgeworth been crushed like a bug under the weight of a thousand snacks (and, well, the machine itself of course)!?

"Edgeworth!" I shouted, moving into the room and turning on the light. Sure enough, the vending machine was lying on its front and seemed mostly undamaged aside from some glass shards lying around. Frantically my eyes scoured the room in earnest for the red-violet suit I had seen opposite me in court so many times. Silently I prayed that my last trial wasn't the last time I would see it.

A soft sound that wasn't a whimper but may have been related to one came from my left and I turned quickly. My thudding heartbeat calmed slightly as I saw the terrified Prosecutor curled in the corner. His position wasn't one of the fetal, prone kind, rather he was curled forward covering his head and I could faintly tell that he was shaking. I set the bag down on the toppled over vending machine and crossed the room to the prosecutor. "Edgeworth?" 


	2. Part 2

**Series/Disclaimer:** Phoenix Wright - Which I don't own.  
**Pairing(s):** None.  
**Warning(s):** Just some possibly bad writing. ee  
**Chapter OST:** Frozen - Madonna  
**Author's Note:** Why can I never come up with a good summery for these story/part/chapter things?

Anyway! Yes! I've come back to this story! I know, you all missed it right? WRIGHT? Haha, no I kid.

But anyway, I'm going to try to finish this up soon. I was planning for this to be the last part but I think I'm going to have to go to a third part. I was thinking of making the shounen-ai choice for the next chapter but I don't think I will just because I'd make Edgeworth out of character. And that would make me want to kill myself.

I wasn't really feeling this second part too well but that's probably just because I was trying to wrap it up here and came to the conclusion that I couldn't. So, yeah, I'll probably be wrapping this up next installment.

------------------------------

To be quite honest, I was only partially aware of the sound of another person in the building with me. Curled in on myself in a terrified and vulnerable position, and sure that everyone had left the building for the night, I wasn't really listening for the sound of another human. Much less one Mr. Phoenix Wright. The defense attorney, of all people, was one I had suspected to be farthest from the Prosecutor's Office. But at the moment my brain wasn't really focused on that and more on steadying myself.

Earthquakes had never been a good experience for me and they shook up more than simply the ground and surroundings. My focus and resolve was sent scattering like the illustration of gas molecules in science books. They collided together and occasionally molded into something logical but it was all too soon that I would lose that thought. The sudden jerk from stability made me shrink away from my surroundings, curling into a ball of safety on the floor as though that would make the shaking stop. I could feel my limbs absorb the vibration and soon my very own body was shaking and I was unable to control it. Left unable to move, my eyes tightly shut and feeling the dread of a cold sweat was all too often how I found myself.

The crash of the vending machine a mere three feet or so away resounded through my ears and further shook me up. My brain was racing at a mile a minute but the thoughts I could usually keep up with were slipping through my fingers; fast. In the middle of it, I heard my name. It was loud and frightened...no...panicked. Definitely panicked. It was amazing how I could focus so easily on someone else's plea in the middle of my own mental deterioration.

"Edgeworth?"

Hearing the name form in the air around me helped soothed me a little, like a single strand I could clasp onto for the time being. I still couldn't move, of course, but hearing something that sounded familiar was calming. From there it was a matter of time as I built up from that small piece of information I had been given. Edgeworth. Miles Edgeworth. I'm twenty-five. My eyes are gray...and so on.  
A hand clasped a bit nervously onto my arm and I shrank away, grating my nails hard into my scalp and forcing my hair away from my face, "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Wright backed off immediately, so quickly some of the glass crunched under his feet and I heard him bump into the machine that lay on the floor. What a foolish mistake on his part. Typical Wright, assuming that getting closer and attempting to touch me would assist. Didn't he understand that a terrified Edgeworth was the same as any other? The room fell into silence around me and I tried to absorb that into my system just as my body had done with the shaking building. Unfortunately, the process was never a quick one and I had learned not to try to rush it. Half-way through I realized that this was the third or so time I had been seen so weak in front of my rival. In mute tones I scolded myself for it but knew that this part of the night was beyond repair. No, instead it was a matter of pulling myself together and keeping the resolve I normally carried.

I carefully uncurled myself from my position but didn't stand, instead I eased my hands away from my head and planted them firmly on the ground. The gesture of checking the vicinity and making sure that they were stable had become habit to me now. As I went through the motions Wright wisely chose to stay away until I was back on my feet. It required some assistance from the wall and, even as I stood, my legs were shaking, but I leaned against it and did my best to hide it.

Even with my eyes closed I could hear Wright rising, it must have been killing him to stand there helplessly. Watching me with so much unused helpful energy ready to vomit itself up in the form of a crutch or comforting words but trusting his better judgment, as usual, and staying away. If I were anymore myself I probably would have enjoyed that very much and opened my eyes to see the expression, but for now I just kept them closed and waited for my body to settle. It must have been at least ten minutes after I was up for either of us to dare speaking.

"Are you-"

"No," I answered flatly. Was I fine? Going to be okay? Alright? At the moment that answer was no and I didn't feel much like being asked such a pointless question. My lungs filled with a few deep breaths before I opened my eyes partially to a world that was clear yet moving. I glanced towards Wright who had once again fallen into silence but was staring at me with a disturbing eagerness to assist. I allowed my eyes to fall closed again, "Water...if you'd please." I hesitated between the phrase, unsure if I really wanted to add that last part. But the thought of one word statements made me feel even worse about myself and that was not something I felt like going into.

I heard him open his mouth, either to protest or insist he help me to my office first, "Water, Wright._Now_." My tones were steady and firm, being sure to keep my voice from quivering in the least. Thankfully that worked, because I heard Wright race out of the room in search of the nearest source of water.

I let out a breath that shook terribly and felt my jaw begin to chatter, my body shivering once again. Gripping the smooth wall as well as I could with one hand, I moved the other up to rub at my eyes. Even though I was back on my feet, everything felt unsteady and blurred. When I was younger I'd have cried by this point, but somewhere along the tedious chain of life I had come to accept it. Earthquakes were just one of the many things that remained beyond my control. It was nothing to cry over, crying would only make me weaker. No, it was yet another difficulty meant to be accepted and handled as well as I could manage.

Unfortunately, there were other physical signs of weakness. Such as curling into a ball and quivering for half an hour or more.

Soon Wright returned, the glass crunching under his feet as he made his way towards me. I lowered my hand and opened my eyes to watch him, but stayed against the wall. With its surface at my back I felt reinforced despite the fact if I were to stand on my own it was very likely I'd collapse. The few and far between nature of earthquakes didn't give me nearly enough to get used to them so when they did happen the symptoms were never light.

Phoenix held out the cup from a reasonable distance but didn't step back once I took it. At the moment I didn't particularly care what his reasons were, I was more focused on getting the water into me. It's chill helped alert me and my body resisted the shaking it had started up with again. The cold and tasteless liquid was a far cry from the tea I would have preferred but until I could return to my office this would suffice just fine.

After the cup was empty I crushed it and let it drop from my hand to the floor, allowing its presence slip to the back of my mind. There was a tenseness on the air that shouted words that weren't said. I didn't feel like talking but it didn't surprise me that Wright very much would have liked to right now. His uncertainty around me nearly made me laugh but at the same time I liked the feeling of control. He wouldn't do anything unless I told him it was okay; it felt nice to know that.

Opening my eyes again I waited for the world to calm, focusing on Wright's eyes across the room. Grey was intently fixed on me, waiting and watching for any twitch in my face or composure. After a few minutes I opened my mouth and something physical seemed to change. As though I could see that he was hanging on my every word.

"Don't just stand there," I grumbled. Like a puppy waiting for the go word, Wright practically lunged at me and I very nearly flinched. But his hand moving around my back to steady me at the waist and his gentle guidance of my arm along his shoulders was enough to make me feel a tad foolish over something like that. Of course Wright wouldn't have jumped me.

The particular manner of assistance seemed a bit much at first but as I started trying to move I realized Wright had the correct idea all along. My legs still felt weak and I couldn't have managed more than two steps without him to lean against. Simply forcing myself to manage as much of my weight on my own as I could was enough to keep me from thinking how utterly pathetic I felt.

---------------------------------

Getting Edgeworth back to his office wasn't exactly easy but he seemed focused on carrying as much of his weight as he could. I set him down on the couch and almost immediately he seemed to cling to it. Seeing the usually fearless prosecutor clinging to a bunch of cushions was a bit unnerving but I wasn't about to make a comment. He'd already been through enough by this point.

"There's a thermos in the bottom left drawer of my desk," he said in the usual instructing tone. Most of the time that tone made me want to blow him off like a teenager with their parents but right now I just wanted to help. I found the thermos he mentioned and poured out a surprisingly hot cup of tea before setting it on the desk and walking over to pass it to him.

"You keep that in your desk all day and it stays that warm?" I asked. Edgeworth lowered his cup to chuckle into it slightly and I knew I had said something that would seem stupid in two seconds.

"Of course not. Detective Gumshoe always stops by with a thermos of tea if I'm still here after nine," he pointed out. There was the feeling of stupidity sinking in; how could I not have figured that out?

"Oh," I sighed before taking a seat on the couch beside him. It was a bit of a challenge to keep an eye on him without seeming like I was staring but by the time he finished the cup, Edgeworth seemed fairly calm. He wasn't so much clinging to the couch as relaxed back into it and his legs had crossed casually. The cup was balanced steadily in two hands and a calm, somewhat dazed expression had spread across his face. His eyes were gazing across the room but didn't seem to be focused on anything.  
I'd have to find out what kind of tea that was.

"What are you doing here, Wright?" his voice cut through the silence like a dangerous but smooth piece of glass. For a moment I had to truly think about why I had stopped by and that lead to me running through much of the evening. I had gone out to dinner with Maya to celebrate a case and had seen Gumshoe sometime that night too. Picking up on the correct train of thought I turned to him and felt a slightly triumphant look cross my face.

"I saw the light in your office on," I replied. Edgeworth blinked at me slowly in a look signaling that the answer wasn't good enough, "Well…I…figured that you'd be here late so I was bringing you something to eat."

This blink was different and was soon followed by a somewhat amused smirk, his cold gray eyes scanned over me, searching. Immediately it clicked and I jumped to my feet, "I must've left it in the other room!" Before the intent could be argued I jogged out of the room and headed back to find the bag sitting where I had left it. By the time I had returned, Edgeworth was seating himself back on the couch again with a refreshed cup of tea and the thermos on a small table beside the couch.

I passed the bag to him but he simply set it in his lap for the time being and continued to down the warm liquid. Sitting down again seemed slightly awkward so I fumbled for a minute before putting my hands back in my pockets and looking around the office. Law books were neatly lined along the shelves that overtook the wall behind Edgeworth's desk, much neater than my own back at Wright & Co. Law Offices. The file he'd been looking over sat beside a bag with the word 'evidence' in blue ink standing out in an almost haunting way. It seemed almost strange to think that Edgeworth would work so hard like I did yet appear so collected in court. Maybe it was stupid to think he could develop something to go off right from the get-go but it always seemed that way. Did I seem that way to him too despite my long nights trying to find clues?

"Was that all?" I could tell by the tone he knew my offer of sticking around to help was swelling and he wanted to cut it off. Turning around I found that he'd opened the container and was shifting through the contents with a pair of chopsticks that he hadn't broken apart yet. His eyes weren't even on me and more on the meal though he didn't look hungry. The earthquake had probably sucked the hunger out of him for the time being.

"H-Huh? Oh, y-yeah," I stuttered. His eyes came up to peer at me through light hair and he closed the box as though he hadn't realized I was watching. There wasn't anything in there he didn't like and we both knew it so throwing something out would have just have looked stupid. I gave a bit of a smile before turning to head for the door, "You should call someone about that machine."

"Thank you," the reply was crisp and strong, I had to hide the smile that had bloomed because of it. Nodding I reached over to pull the door shut behind me as I left but was unexpectedly pulled to a standstill, "Wright."

"Hm?" Turning partially I noticed Edgeworth had returned to shifting through the food and broken apart the chopsticks. Whether he was attempting to pretend he was fine or was seriously hungry was impossible to tell but I waited silently for the response.

"Hand me that folder and evidence off of my desk before you go."


	3. Part 3

By far the most uncomfortable position I have ever graced with my sleeping body was curled on half of the couch in my office. I note half because I had laid across it many a day of migraines and it was actually quite comfortable. But as I started to stir into consciousness with the light coating my eyelids I automatically was forced to acknowledge the stiffness in my neck. Soon that same ache crawled its devious way down my spine and comfortably settled itself in similar to the way Puru enjoyed doing in the evenings when I settled on the couch at home. Groaning, I trued to shift myself out of the hole I'd been sucked into but found my lap weighed down. In my groggy state the only explanation was evidence so my hand hastily found the offending anchor to move it out of the way. Once again I grunted with excessive effort to unseat the cloth bag.

Oddly enough the cloth, not the weight, clicked into my head which I lifted upright with a sickening crack. I flinched and raced my palm to the searing throb, attempting to make the pain disappear though failing quite miserably. Prying open one of my eyes I glared at the blue suit pants in my lap with, what I hoped was, complete distain. My gaze moved up until finally it landed on Phoenix's face, eyes closed peacefully and arms folded into a make-shift pillow behind his head. Raising a brow I resisted the childish urge to jolt him awake via shouting and instead focused on getting his legs off. The pain in my own muscles made me a little less kind with the procedure but even after I stood and had gathered everything back on my desk Phoenix remained asleep.

Still massaging my neck I opened my office door to check the hallway before venturing out. For the most part the building was still vacant though the dull hum of a janitorial machine was coming from the break room. As the previous night's earthquake emerged from my memory I cringed and quickly decided that avoiding that scene would be best for now. Gathering my composure I headed out in the direction of the second break room and hoped that something similar had not occurred. My extended walk was rewarded by a clean and empty room with a coffee maker. Though I preferred tea, a cup of coffee was equally refreshing and had a particularly alluring charm after a night in the office. The mere smell of the blend made my senses tingle to life.

Fishing two mugs out of the cabinet I was soon on my way back to the comfortable and safe sanctuary of my own office. However, I had foolishly assumed I was home free when the bulky form of Gumshoe was suddenly overtaking my sight. Hastily we both took mutual steps back and my eyes flicked up just in time to see his mouth clumsily closing around words.

"S-sorry about that pal-oh! Mr. Edgeworth!" His shock was genuine as he looked over me nervously. I positively hated the concern in his expression but attempted to ignore it.

"Good morning, Detective Gumshoe," I replied in a tone I could only hope didn't sound too aggravated. After all, I could hardly blame him for being worried – just showing it blatantly while I was standing right there. Since his eyes had not stopped roaming me for injuries I continued, "You're here early."

"Huh? O-oh, yeah!" Scratching the back of his head he finally looked away. The instant the gaze left I felt some sort of neurotic pressure to keep up appearance drift away. Truthfully, the notion itself was pointless yet I couldn't help but feel like a child when looked at with such obvious care. I was afraid of earthquakes and had momentary melt downs but it had been quite some time since I'd broken down crying because of one. As if to add fuel to the fire, Gumshoe went on, "Actually, sir, I was a little worried" – a little meaning greatly, of course, as Gumshoe was rarely ever 'a little' worried about things pertaining to me and earthequakes – "so I wanted to check in to see if you were-"

"I'm quite alright, detective," I reassured, allowing a bit of a smile to show for effect.

The physical weight of his worry had not lifted yet, "A-are you sure? I don't mean to be disrespectful but you were alone when-"

"Wright stopped by shortly afterwards to…" I struggled for the correct term. Proper credit to Wright was due yet I hardly wanted to demean myself, "assist me with the shock." Yes, that sounded very nice. Not too pathetic on my part nor too valiant on Wright's – the man was more like a damsel in distress than a knight most of the time.

"He did?" The reply lacked in actual surprise, which made my face adjust to a look of suspicion I'm sure because he seemed considerably more willing to move on. Stepping around me, that smile still back on his face, he let loose another of his low laughs, "Well then I guess worrying was pretty stupid of me, huh sir?"

I opened my mouth to ask him what he found so very funny and why he didn't seem more surprised but the good detective was already on his way towards the break room. Running back over the conversation in my mind, I decided that if Gumshoe was finally satisfied enough to allow me to continue the journey back to my office I wasn't going to jeopardize it with further conversation.

The large yawn that my body made me heave was just another step down the pathway leading to a new day. As I rolled over the silence of the soft cushions was enough to make it obvious that I wasn't in my own office. When the stylish, deep magenta flooded my eyes like a pair of tinted sunglasses I knew immediately where I was. Rolling over again to sit up and stretch only confirmed that I had, indeed, fallen asleep in the office of Miles Edgeworth. This hadn't been the first time and I was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last.

On a strange cue with my thoughts, the Chief Prosecutor was soon stepping inside. At the sight of him trying to maintain two steaming mugs as well as the door I jumped to my feet and crossed the room.

"You're awake," his tone was controlled yet still it was evident that I had surprised him. I already felt a smile coming on, which the usually stoic prosecutor must have noted because he frowned around his next order, "Don't just stand there, these are hot. Take yours before I drop it on you."

Somehow the words that normally would have indicated clumsiness on his part ended up sounding like a threat so I was quick to close my hand around a cup. The heated outside was enough to make me awkwardly hurry to find the handle as Edgeworth shook out his own hand. By the time he glanced up again I triumphantly had managed to look like nothing had gone wrong – though Edgeworth's face once again made me feel like he'd seen everything.

Turning, I attempted to hide the rather silly embarrassment under a question, "How'd you sleep?"

"The real question is why did _you_ have a more comfortable sleeping position?" his reply came in a cat-like tone; a playful sort of voice curling around words of irritation. In the face of it I automatically struggled out a laugh, my hand relocating to the back of my neck.

"S-sorry about that," I knew I was stumbling as I reached for the right words to change the topic, "Especially after everything last night."

I knew immediately that was the wrong subject as Edgeworth's body stiffened in the middle of his motion to sit. Once more that familiar, indistinguishable look overtook his face; the one that was eternally tangled up in conflict and pain, "Sorry!" My impractical jump to the apology only made him flinch and further avert his eyes. Though a rival he may be that didn't make me feel any less guilty about the stupid mistake. I wanted to curse him out for not making me angry before hand because I had no problem being short when I was angry. Sighing deeply, I tried again, "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

Still no response.

"I saw enough of that face during the Von Karma-" I hissed. Apparently my tact, what little of it I had left, decided to sleep in.

Edgeworth's laugh was bitter. "You really have no way with words outside of court, do you Wright? Two memories I'd sooner purge from my mind within thirty seconds of each other and almost within a single apology. Care to try another? My father, perhaps."

The chill of his voice and distance of his eyes was enough to banish even the thought of trying to redeem myself from my mind. We allowed the silence to stretch on between us and even the motion of raising the mug to my lips took stores of courage to manage. Edgeworth's face remained turned from me and though the look had softened it hadn't dissolved completely from his eyes. Just the thought of them being fixed on me was enough to make my stomach churn like he'd put sour milk in my coffee. A tightening along my back pressured me to say or do something but nothing came to mind. I hated having people angry with me, even Edgeworth. Actually, him more than most people because though I frequently annoyed him I was rarely able to make him angry. Not that that irritating him was ever a goal of mine…

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my place to-" Once again his voice ran into mine, but not only that it was like his ran through it. His voice sliced mine through like it was melted butter facing an expertly sharpened blade rather than even the typical butter knife.

"It's never been your place, that's never stopped you before, why apologize now?" Even as low as he spoke, with his eyes averted, that look of pain was in his eyes. A thin coat of anger covered it like plastic wrap and I could tell he was trying to hide it but he couldn't. The agony of those memories was more than any irritation could cover up; even the irritation I induced.

I frowned and stood up, unable to take sitting down and watching him mentally degrade himself for another minute. Edgeworth was my rival, there was no question about that, which was probably why it started to burn that he would sit there and sulk. Where was the fearsome prosecutor I faced in court? Suddenly the lack of evidence and contradictions made him the weakest and most vulnerable man alive? Some how I couldn't buy that – not even for a minute.

"It's over with, Edgeworth. Snap out of it already. How long has it been now? Not just since your father died but since the case was resolve-" His dark eyes looked up to me, still with that intense and overwhelming look that made me want to shut up and crawl back into my corner but I couldn't. At the same time, it was impossible to carry on in the ferocious tone (if I do say so myself) that I'd built up. What a waste.

Instead, my shoulders slacked and I once again fell back to the couch and while my eyes left him his didn't leave me. That made the desire to continue even stronger, but I'd never get back that momentum I had just built up. Might as well try the usual attempt at friendliness, I decided and turned to face him, "What would your dad think of you sulking about this anyway? Sure, okay, well…you're a prosecuting attorney…and he was a defense attorney…" I could feel the lead in I had slipping like Maya on ice in winter, but a dug my heels in hard and tried to continue, "But that doesn't matter, does it? Now that all that's over you're the top prosecuting attorney around. No defense attorney can step up to the plate without hearing about Miles Edgeworth…right?"

My eyes glanced back to his again and the question was clearly answered by the morphed expression. What pain had been there was now a faint and eager gleam of hope at my words. It was hard to say he was hanging on them, and the second I looked up he glanced away, but that was a start! Somehow I knew the cliché opening would get him.

Edgeworth slowly rose from the couch and set the cup of coffee he'd been harboring on a nearby table. Moving over to the large window that gave a clear view of the morning city, his hand grazed over his desk and lightly. A strange sensation had started to course through his system at Phoenix's words, a sensation that he wasn't used to or able to describe. Yet, at the same time, it felt familiar and welcoming; two things he wasn't quick to give up in his brief time of need.

When his hand couldn't find something solid to rest on, he slipped it into his pockets and looked out over the city. The skies were a fresh blue decorated with the occasional white wisp of cloud, there wasn't a sign that the earthquake last night had happened or that anything bad would befall the upcoming day. People and cars were slowly building up to the bustling speed of the day, able to so carelessly brush aside the previous night's incidents. No ambulances, no fire trucks. Not only was it as though nothing had disturbed the city's somewhat chaotic peace but it seemed like nothing ever could.

Then he realized that was exactly how to explain the feeling. It seemed very much like he'd returned, if only a little, to the unbroken state he had been in all those years ago. Before his father was murdered, before the case was brought up against him. The secure feeling resembled one before von Karma and his treacherous methods and plans, before death and despair had haunted his nightmares. Back when he attended school with Phoenix and proved his innocence concerning the stolen money. The feeling was nothing short of pride with grounds under it for a change; as though he was standing on his own two feet again.

"Do you believe that, Wright?" he asked, his voice soft with cautiousness but still demanding to know. What was the demand based on? He could only assume that the assertion came from a need to know…to have confirmed what he didn't feel he could establish on his own. Phoenix had brought it up, hadn't he? If anyone could confirm such a thing, it would have been him. Miles turned just slightly to glance towards his rival who had moved and was now standing before his desk, "Do you really believe such a thing?"

Phoenix's gaze was not fixed on Edgeworth despite being closer to him, but rather he looked out the window towards the clouds and sky beyond. Anyone could have tossed out an answer but he had this whole barrier against lying. Dishonesty, he had proved many times in court, only lead a person further into despair. Though Edgeworth gave the façade of being strong and perfect he knew, some how, that he couldn't afford anymore sorrow in his life. By his twenties he'd already been witness to the gruesome death of someone he cherished and admired and unwittingly faced the most devastating betrayal of his life. He was strong because he should have been; not because he actually was.

Even as the question seemed so simple, Phoenix considered if he thought it to be true. After all, he'd already admitted to himself that the line was cliché – a simple way to get him off the hook from really discussing the matter at all. People that heard those words usually scoffed, yet for the first time in a while, Mile's had done no such thing. He turned the question back in need of confirmation, making Phoenix want to think yet…simultaneously…

His eyes turned to Edgeworth and a smile spread across his features, "Of course. You know me, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't! Unless it was one of those times where I meant what I said but it came out wrong…" Nervously he scratched the back of his head, his proud smile turning to one of embarrassment, "But I'm pretty sure we can say that didn't happen here."

Edgeworth watched his once friend, once rival, now an odd combination of both, fidget and laugh at his own shame. He turned partially to head back towards the couch but paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder towards the window. Once more his eyes found that brilliant blue sky and sunlight illuminating the clouds scattered through it, allowing the invisible warmth to envelope him. Speaking lightly, in a voice so soft only he and…perhaps…his father could hear, "What a silly thing to believe."


End file.
